


Rewind

by warriorlorcan



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 02:03:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9214178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warriorlorcan/pseuds/warriorlorcan
Summary: The Princess of Terrasen is sent to the Fae kingdom to learn to control her magic, and to improve diplomacy between Doranelle and the North, but she finds something there she never would have expected.Based off this post by tumblr user @thelifelessbookofhope:(okay but I desperately need fanfiction of what would’ve happened had maeve not planted the mating bond with lyria on rowans head and erawan not conquered terraseni meancan you imagine the princess of terrasen going to visit doranelle in her late teens and there is prince rowan — having just come from war somewhere but not traumatized over lyria at allor the other infinite scenarios of how and where they could have met in a world where everything is as it should be)





	

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments are welcome! I love hearing from you guys!

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was exhausted from the longest boat journey of her life, and some of the most irritating meetings with Wendlyn officials she’d ever had. She’d been in Doranelle for all of 20 minutes before she knew she wouldn’t like it there. The queen of the Fae realm was irritating her further by being exactly 18 minutes late to their meeting. The Princess of Terrasen had been promised she wouldn’t have to wait long, and flames already danced across her fingers as she wondered what the Fae classified “long” as.

She tugged on her golden braid and readjusted her gown, which was forest green and amazingly uncomfortable. She’d protested wearing a dress, but her father had nudged her and told her that the heir to the throne could not meet a queen in _travel pants_. Aelin had argued, but she couldn’t say no to Rhoe. The doors to the sitting room banged open and a parade of guards began to cascade in, filing into formation like an ever-changing flower.

It was easy to pick out Maeve the second she walked in. Partially from the fact that she was the only figure not wearing intricate, and surprisingly glamorous, armor, but also due to the obnoxious crown set upon her head. Aelin fought the urge to roll her eyes, but gave the queen a once-over and set a ringlet of eternal flame about her own brow. She plastered a smirk on her face and stood to greet the Fae in front of her.

Her parents had left her alone for her journey into Doranelle, claiming that if they were there to hold her hand, Maeve would never see her as the powerful Queen-to-be that she was. They’d stayed in Varese with her mother’s family, and Aelin had climbed upon her horse to begin the journey into the Fae realm. She’d shifted into her Fae form before she’d ever reached Wendlyn, hoping that her roots would popularize her with the Queen and her subjects. So far, it hadn’t gotten her any special treatment, but she was sure to tuck her hair behind her ears to the pointed tips were on display.

Maeve swished around her soldiers in her deep purple gown. Aelin didn’t fail to notice the symbolism of the color of her dress, and she fought the urge to glare at the immortal queen. The queen reached out a pale hand to the Princess of Terrasen, and Aelin forced a smile, taking her aunt’s hand. It was cold beneath her fingers, and already Aelin could tell she wasn’t going to be overly fond of her distant relative. She bowed her head slightly, but didn’t drop the circlet of flames.

“Aunt Maeve,” she greeted. The female’s eyes were cold when Aelin met them with her own, but a devilish smile was spread across her lips.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Princess. We have much to discuss. I trust your journey wasn’t too difficult?”

“Just long, Queen Maeve.” Just as the queen opened her mouth to respond, the great wooden doors slammed open, revealing a warrior covered in muck and… was that _blood_ on his trousers? Not that Aelin minded a little grime, but there was a time and place for everything, and an elaborately decorated sitting room in the palace of an immortal queen didn’t seem the right place for it. The male strode in quickly, aiming his trajectory towards his queen. His silver hair fell just past his shoulders, and his face was set with a furrowed brow. He had tattoos coating the side of his face in a language that Aelin couldn’t read.

He reached Maeve and bowed just long enough to be respectful before straightening and muttering a “ _my queen_ ” under his breath.

“All the soldiers are in place, and there should be no problem once the rebels are subdued. There will be minimal casualties on our side.” Maeve chuckled.

“Prince Rowan, I didn’t call you to me for a report.” Aelin’s ears perked up at the mention of his name. _Prince Rowan, holy gods_. He was a legend, not only among the Fae but among all demi-Fae, and many humans as well. She stood a little taller as Maeve gestured to her.

“This is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, Princess of Terrasen and heir to her uncle’s throne.” Prince Rowan began speaking as his back was still turned to her.

“Please to make your aquai-” he cut off abruptly as he finally got his first look at her. Aelin smirked, she’d known she was beautiful, but never before had she left someone this speechless. His eyes trailed along her green gown before making their way to her face. He seemed to trace every line of it, the bow of her lips, the curve of her chin and her cheeks. When his eyes met hers, Aelin jolted. Those eyes. They were magnificently green, like the pines of Terrasen, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away. Something within her stirred and pulled taut, seeming to tug her towards him. She felt as if she knew him, had before looked into those bottomless eyes. She could hear her own heart beating, and could only pray that the other Fae in the room were oblivious to its change in rhythm.

“Prince Rowan,” she breathed, pulling her eyes away from his to bow her head slightly. He cleared his throat before muttering something mostly unintelligible, but that probably resembled her name or title.

~

Both of them knew that something had happened in that ornate sitting room, but neither of them chose to acknowledge it for most of Aelin’s stay. They attempted to keep their public appearances to a minimum, avoiding the other Fae that could potentially scent what they both knew connected them.

Maeve had requested Rowan help Aelin with her gift of fire, so they stuck mostly to the fields around Maeve’s ruling city to practice. Rowan was an insufferable teacher. He demanded more of Aelin than she wanted to give, and never gave her enough breaks. Aelin knew how to control her power, and she’d be damned if she let him think otherwise. Multiple times now, she’d caught him in a cage of flames, but the second she let her guard down, he would put them out with his wind.

“Isn’t wind supposed to stoke fire?” Aelin mumbled one day as they trudged back towards Doranelle’s center. Rowan chuckled faintly, and she slammed to a stop. “Does Prince Rowan Whitethorn actually have a sense of humor? Gods be damned!”

“You’re insufferable,” Rowan muttered and continued his trek without ever looking back at her. She just laughed and picked up her pace to catch up with him.

“It’s been weeks and I’ve gotten nowhere. You just douse my flames whenever they start to get bigger. So I’d say you’re insufferable.” Rowan stopped to look at her.

“How can I douse them?” His deep voice rumbled as he talked.

“What do you mean _how_ , you did it yourself.”

“You’ve kept that crown of flames around your head since we met. It never burns you, and it never falters. It’s been plenty windy outside, and even when you went swimming in the lake, it still burned.” Aelin rolled her eyes.

“And your point is?”

“You know how to control it. But you don’t. You could keep a fireplace burning eternally, _so do it._ ” Flames began to rage inside her as she turned to face him.

“I’ve done everything you’ve asked. I haven’t held anything back, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“You’re lying to yourself, Aelin. I can’t help you anymore. You should go back to Terrasen, where you can continue to be the beautiful princess with a touch of fire.” He pushed ahead of her. Aelin’s face turned red.

“You can’t just _give up!_ ” She shouted after him. He whirled around.

“Why not? You did.” She almost screamed with fury.

“That’s not true!”

“Stop being a brat, Aelin. Maybe you’re not as powerful as everyone thought.” She growled and sent a column of flame towards him, catching the grass on fire as it surged to catch him in a circle he couldn’t breach. Her eyes narrowed as she stalked towards him.

“I am the Princess of Terrasen, and the heir to my kingdom. I have a higher rank and it would do you well, Prince, to never forget it.” She began spiraling deeper into her power, now feeling it pulsing just under her skin.

“You’re nothing but a spoiled princess, soon to become a spoiled queen. Terrasen would be better without you.” The words rang in Aelin’s ears. _Better without you, better without you, better without you._

The young princess thought of everything she had seen; her people sobbing in the streets, the letters that would get sent home when soldiers died in the 10 year long battle against Adarlan. _No_. She was the rightful Queen of Terrasen, and she would stop the grief and suffering of her people. She told Rowan as much.

“You can’t do anything to stop it,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her.

“I can do _everything_ ,” Aelin growled. Rowan just stared back at her.

“Then prove it, Princess.” Aelin quickly retracted her ring of fire and shot out all her her flame through her fingertips, towards the Fae male standing in front of her. He quickly threw up a shield of air, but Aelin was unrelenting. Her flames pounded and pounded against it. She could see a faint sheen of sweat building across his forehead, and even as he began to push out his shield and send wisps of wind and ice cascading around her fire, it did not go out.

Rowan was laughing. She was throwing everything she had at him and he was _laughing_. She muttered something vulgar under her breath, and he clearly heard it because he laughed harder and met her eyes.

“There it is. Show them all, Aelin.”

And so Aelin lifted her arms and set the sky ablaze.

~

She was breathing hard by the time she felt her power start to taper out and she let it sink back inside of her, cooling the wells deep in her belly. Rowan began to approach her as soon as she returned to normal, or whatever could be called normal for Aelin.

“I told you,” he said, smirking at her. She rolled her eyes and nudged him with her shoulder as she started walking back up the hill to Doranelle.

“I always knew i was fantastic.” He huffed and followed her. They walked in silence for a mile or so, Rowan trailing just behind the golden-haired princess.

“I have to tell you something,” he said, speeding his steps up to move next to her. She hummed an approval. “You have to leave.”

Aelin whipped her head look at him.

“ _What?_ I don’t _have_ to do anything.”

“Unless you want Maeve to give you the boot herself, or keep you here, I suggest you pack your things as quickly as possible.”

“What the hell, Rowan? I just _controlled my fire_ , and you want me to leave? What the rutting hell is that?” Rowan was quiet for a moment.

“I never said I wanted you to leave,” he muttered. Aelin rolled her eyes.

“Just following orders, right?” She snapped. “Maeve’s silver-haired puppy.”

“I’m not going to waste my time explaining myself to you.” Aelin stomped ahead of him, but stopped abruptly at the top of the hill. From where she stood, she could see all of Doranelle, and further into Wendlyn. It only took him a few short strides to catch up to her.

“I’m not ready,” she said. When Rowan looked to her face, he saw what could have been tears waiting in her eyes, until she coughed and the sheen was gone.  “My training isn’t done.”

Rowan smiled and turned to face her. He could tell she was biting her lip to keep it from trembling.

“You’ve always been ready, Fireheart.” He brought a knuckle up to swiftly caress her cheek, then began to pull his hand away, but Aelin caught it.

“Come with me.”

“What?”

“There’s nothing keeping you here. Come with me to Terrasen. Train me, teach me. I don’t give a shit what you do, just don’t make me leave without you.” Forest green eyes met turquoise ones.

“I-” The words got caught in his throat, but it didn’t matter anymore because Aelin was stepping towards him, pressing her chest against his and leaning up to position her lips just before his.

“Please,” she mumbled, so close to him that he could feel the movement of her lips and her breath on his own. He’d never heard her say the word please, not even when asking for the salt to be passed. Something about it fractured him, and he slid his hand into her golden hair, the hair he’d dreamt about ever since he’d seen it in its braid her first day in Doranelle, and brought his lips down on hers.  

He pulled away so that both of them could catch a much-needed breath, and set his forehead against hers. He could see flames dancing in her eyes.

“I’d follow you anywhere, Fireheart.” She grinned and kissed him quickly.

“Good, because I’ll need someone to carry all my luggage.”


End file.
